Fragmented Dreams
by Generic-Generica
Summary: In which a post-Tokyo Grail War Arthur Pendragon finds himself in a different world, meets a time-travelling princess and her companions, and ends up fighting an evil dragon. Just another day in the life. (Post Fragments of Sky Silver)
1. Future Past (Part One)

When Arthur Pendragon woke up, it was to the howling of the wind and a sudden lack of solid ground beneath his feet. The next thing he knew, he was falling, tumbling from the sky. Overhead, a glowing portal swirled in the sky, a rip in reality that shimmered with a thousand many-hued lights. The King of Knights thought about his current situation. A pained laugh escaped his lips. Excalibur tumbled from his nerveless fingers, he watched the golden sword gleam as it fell towards a city in flames.

As it fell.

As it fell like he was falling.

He was not sure what had happened. One moment he had been at peace, lying at death's door, waiting for Sir Bedivere to carry out his final order. One moment, he had been waiting for Sir Bedivere to return Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake.

In the next, he was here. And there was no pain. Arthur's hand went to his side, even as he fell. His gauntleted hand touched his intact breastplate, brushing across perfectly sturdy metal. There was no wound, no gaping hole in his side from his fight against Mordred.

There was no wound, he had Excalibur again, he was garbed in his _intact_ armor, and he was falling towards a ruined city.

These were the thoughts that flashed through Arthur Pendragon's mind as he fell, as he scooped up Excalibur and braced for a sudden, violent impact.

A pool of fetid water broke his fall, a decrepit fountain that had fallen into disuse. Arthur still cratered into the dirty water, sending up an enormous spray, splattering the flagstones with clear-brown liquid. He stumbled to his feet, Excalibur still clutched in his hands as he panted. Water dripped off his body, soaking his armor, his tabard, his golden hair. He dismissed the uncomfortable sensation. It was of no concern.

No, there were three things that were of concern. He was alive, and decidedly not dying, for there was no wound in his side. He had Excalibur again. And this place was not the wood where he was dying. Questions bloomed through his mind, confusion clouded his thoughts. He gazed up, as he watched the portal hanging in the air wink out of existence against the overcast sky. He breathed in and out easily, for there was no pain.

There was no pain.

He was alive. He had Excalibur again. And so, Arthur Pendragon, Once and Future King of Britain, looked around an unfamiliar city in ruins and flame. It was unlike Tokyo, it was not a city of the modern age. There were no towering skyscrapers, no electric lights, no cars everywhere. The buildings were of more humble construction, made of stone and brick. The roads were paved with flagstones, and in the distance, on top of a hill, he could see a castle.

A castle that was also in ruins, that was also on fire. A castle that had been ruined to the point where it was a barely recognizable mishmash of half-recognized structures.

The sight worried Arthur.

He sniffed the air and for the first time, he noted the fetid stench. The smell of scorched flesh, of rot and decay. Of blood. He strained his ears, and he realized that it was far too quiet. There were no screams of the dying, no moans from anyone who might be injured. A cloud of black smoke wafted in front of him as he walked through the ashen streets, he waved it out of his face.

Assuredly, something terrible has happened here. Something awful-

A roar broke the silence, an eerie, inhuman wail. Arthur turned, and that's when he saw them. That's when he saw the army of the Dead lurching through the streets.

They were corpses one and all, withered, rotten. Glowing red lights glared out of empty, hollow eye-sockets. Brown leathery skin stretched over putrid bone as those mummified bodies advanced on the King of Knights, swords raised high above their heads. As one, they roared, that same bone-chilling roar that had first caught Arthur's attention.

As one, they rushed him.

Arthur Pendragon shifted his grip on his blade, gripping it with both of his hands. Excalibur came up in a glorious golden arc, and the first line of undead fell back against their peers, neatly bifurcated. Their bodies dissipated into black-purple smog moments after their demise. The golden sword came down with an explosive sound, and another wave of Risen are reduced to smoke.

Arthur Pendragon looks at the horde again, emerald eyes darting about. The Dead still came forward, like clockwork automatons, unheeding of the losses they were suffering. An endless army of rotting corpses drift out from the streets of the ruined city, they're hunting one of the only living things left in the city. These are truly insurmountable odds for any man.

But Arthur Pendragon is not just any man. He leaped forward, through the streets, swinging Excalibur to his left and his right as he carved a path through the swathe of teeming Dead. He ducked his head out of the way as a rusted sword comes close to carving a furrow through his head. He brought Excalibur up again, and smote three Risen with a single blow.

And for the first time since he found himself here, in this blasted landscape, he is truly calm. He knows not why he is here, why he has been brought to this place, or even what this place is. He does not know how he has been healed, or how he has come to possess Excalibur again.

But he knows that these are the enemies of Man before him. He has his sword in his hands again, and he has an enemy in front of him to destroy, and that will suffice for now.

His eyes dart towards the castle again. There was a wholly malevolent presence there. A familiar presence. Even from a distance, that oppressive feeling was unmistakable. It was a presence that let Arthur recall a black fleshy sea, a howling darkness that bore its fangs at the world. A scarlet beast with seven open mouths, with an insane appetite that symbolized the sins and greed of humanity.

Saber, no, Arthur Pendragon, felt that presence, and he recalled the Beast of Revelation. He remembered the unholy thing he slew, at the close of the First Holy Grail War, and a thought came to his mind. Even as he cut through the horde of the risen dead, that thought still troubled him.

 _So this is why I have been summoned to this place._

* * *

Lucina looked upon Ylisse, and she resisted the urge to weep. The city, the city was in ruins. The castle, the last bastion of humanity, was also in ruins. The fighting had died down, but she could see the horde of Risen marching through the streets from her vantage point.

"It's so dark outside-!" She murmured. She clenched her fist around Falchion, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of her grip. "There's still time before it's night and yet-"

That's when she heard the _laughter_. Deep, braying laughter, rattling her bones. Familiar laughter. She whirled, turning towards the source of the laughter.

Grima leered back at her. The Fell Dragon's six glowing eyes glared at her through the smog wreathed in curls of black smoke that curl toward the black sky. A gargantuan head wound toward her, supported by a sinuous curling neck. Black wings stretched out from behind the dread creature's back, black tattered shrouds-

The stench was unbearable. The dragon's breath stank of decay and rotting flesh, an overwhelming miasma that Lucina could practically choke on. And that overbearing, noxious _presence_ -

Yes. That dragon _was_ Grima. The Fell Dragon that brought about the end of humanity.

Her parents' murderer.

Lucina raised Falchion, she tried to steel herself-

" **You've lost."** Grima rasped, the force of his voice whipping Lucina's dark blue curls about her face. **"Mankind has fallen."**

Lucina took a small step back as she gasped. Falchion nearly fell from her nerveless grasp

"… It- It can't be-" She whispered, as the object of her nightmares laughed.

" **The past cannot be undone! There is no** _ **future**_ **for mankind."** The dragon gloated, even as it reared back on its haunches. **"Your mother and father are** _ **dead**_ **."**

Lucina took another step back. And another.

" **And soon, you shall die as well."** The dragon laughed. And then it _roared_ , it _lunged_ , massive claws scything toward Lucina. The girl raised Falchion in a futile attempt to ward off the inevitable, she squeezed her eyes shut-

And then something scooped her up, around her midsection, causing her to sprawl to the ground, to roll around the castle's rooftop. It was that force that saved her life, for Grima's massive paw had slammed down where Lucina was standing. She coughed and hacked, her eyes fluttering open, Falchion still held tight in a nigh-bloodless grip-

"Are you alright?"

Green eyes stared down into her own, transfixing her. A strong gauntleted took her own, to heave her back up to her unsteady feet. Lucina took in that radiant figure and she gasped. In front of her, in the depths of the darkness, there was a knight that emanated radiance, clad in argent and silver. A literal knight in shining armor, wielding a glorious golden sword, as golden as his hair was.

 _But where did he come from?_

"Are you alright?" The knight repeated gently, his handsome features curled into a warm, reassuring smile.

"Y- Yes." Lucina stuttered. She coughed as she brought herself back to her feet. "Yes, I am. But how- But who-"

Grima's roar of displeasure shook the castle. Lucina wobbled on her unsteady legs, sweat dripping from her brow. This was- Bad. This was very, very bad.

" **What is this?"** Grima howled. A massive foot stamped the ground, causing tremors to shake the castle, causing cracks to begin to appear in the stonework. Rubble showered to the ground as Grima expressed his utter _displeasure_. **"What** _ **is this**_ **?"**

"Call me Arthur," Arthur said as he nodded towards Lucina. "And you are?"

"… Lucina," Lucina replied. She took up Falchion again, turned her attention towards Grima. "But this is no time for pleasantries."

"No, I suppose it isn't." Arthur mused as he stared at Grima, his golden sword in hand.

" **Who. Who** _ **are you**_ **."** Grima roared, and the sound echoed for miles and miles. His massive wings flapped and it was all Lucina could do to hold her ground where she stood. But… Despite the hopelessness of her situation, a spark of _hope_ had kindled itself within her chest.

The Fell Dragon was _angry_.

This knight was not something he'd predicted.

And that very fact-

That fact-!

That spark of hope ignited into a raging inferno.

"I have many questions to ask you," Lucina licked her dry lips, as she turned to glance at the peerless knight beside her. "But they can wait."

Arthur turned to look at her. He raised a delicate, golden eyebrow. "On account of the dragon, I suppose?"

"Yes, the dragon is a very pressing matter." Lucina blinked. Surely that much was obvious, was it not? Why would he phrase a statement like that as a question?

"Mmh." Arthur turned back towards the dragon, and the sight of that golden sword in his hands caused the dragon to flinch back, wary of this new threat. "How do we kill it?"

Lucina hesitated. "… I'm not sure we can." She said sadly, a trace of dejection making its way into her voice. That's right. She'd only possessed four out of the five gems needed to complete the Fire Emblem. The Awakening ceremony, it had failed. As she was, Lucina did _not_ possess the power needed to destroy Grima.

But that was alright.

Because Naga had whispered to her of another path.

To save the future by returning to the past-!

"Listen," Lucina said, and she was glad that her voice did not waver. "You need to go. Grima wants _me_. Find my friends, take them to Mount Prism. Their names are-"

"I will not run," Arthur said quietly. He breathed in deeply, he closed his eyes to take in the overwhelming stench of death that permeated the air. He breathed out, he reopened his eyes, and they were like hard jade, set in a focused glare. A glare focused at the Fell Dragon before the pair.

"I thank you for saving my life, but you _must_ go, now." Lucina insisted.

"I will not," Arthur said again. "I know why I am here now. To kill that _thing_." He raised his sword, pointed the tip unwaveringly at Grima, and the dragon flinched again at the sight of it.

"How do we kill it?" Arthur asked again. Lucina resisted the urge to gape at his confident, nonchalant tone, and for a moment, she envied the man for his composure, in the face of such a horrible creature. The creature that had stolen her parents from her.

The moment passed and she felt ashamed, to be thinking these thoughts about someone who was willing to fight by her side, even at this dire hour. A stranger to be sure, but a stranger that had saved her life.

But it was pointless, in the end. Futile. Grima- Grima couldn't be harmed.

… Couldn't he?

An _idea_ popped into Lucina's head. She glanced at her sword, at its keen edge. Perhaps…

"Falchion," Lucina said quietly, as Grima circled the castle, that horrible head coiling on that sinuous neck. "My sword. It can still hurt him, it might even be able to kill him. If you can give me an opening, then if I can reach his head, perhaps-!"

"You'll have your opening." Arthur twirled his sword in a flourish, tracing golden patterns into the air.

" **No. You'll die, Outlander, that's what you'll do."** Grima bared his fangs. **"I'll melt that little trinket in your hands! I'll chew on your blackened bones, and the bones of the tiny one beside you!"**

"Well then. Shall we?" Arthur turned towards her, and Lucina felt her fear ebb away.

" _I will not die here. Not today. I will stop Grima. For father. For mother. For everybody."_

"Go." Lucina nodded, and the two warriors dodged to the side as the fell beast brought down a mighty paw once again, as Grima roared his displeasure towards the heavens. He roared again as Arthur brought down his sword, leaving a deep steaming _gash_ upon that paw, and then the battle was engaged.

* * *

 **A/N: You know, it's been a while since I've gone on fanfiction dot net.**

 **Fate/Prototype Fragments, Fire Emblem Awakening, game, set, go. Here goes I suppose.**


	2. Future Past (Part Two)

**A/N: This chapter has been beta'ed by BlueHelix. Much obliged.**

* * *

Arthur Pendragon swung his sword, parrying a single backhanded swipe from an immense, taloned paw that would have squished him like an ant. The force of the blow still nearly drove him to his knees, and Arthur panted. This dragon-

He was strong. Stronger than the half-formed Beast of Revelation that Arthur had faced in the final hours of the Holy Grail War. The dragon leaned forward and belched _fire_ from its mouth, balls of searing white-hot flame roiling through the air. Arthur rolled out of the way, driven by pure instinct. A shadow fell over him. His eyes widened as Grima swept his huge claws across the roof-

"Hyah!" Lucina yelled as she lunged forth and stabbed Falchion into the dragon's extended claw. Grima howled, out of pain, out of anger. He recoiled, retreating. Those six red eyes fixated on Excalibur. The Fell Dragon growled again, confused by the sight of the sword-

But then, that same mocking laughter erupted forth from Grima's mouth once again. He studied his wounds, black ichor dripping from little cuts across his body.

" **Insects."** Grima leered. A malevolent six-eyed glare swept over Arthur's body. Slavering jaws dripped with black saliva, lined with brutal, sharp teeth. **"That sword is irrelevant. This accomplishes nothing. You accomplish nothing."**

Arthur studied the dragon again, eyes darting to each of the little cuts he'd inflicted, eyes going to the wounds Lucina had inflicted. They'd hardly slowed the beast down. Moreover…

The top of the castle was beginning to crumble around the pair. Arthur could see great gaping holes where Grima's mighty talons had punched clean through the floor. Bits of the floor had been melted by Grima's flames, stone left blackened and warped.

They were quite literally running out of space to fight and maneuver.

" **Why struggle against the inevitable?"** Grima rumbled again. **"Why struggle against your fate? This world is dead."**

Arthur shook his head as an image superimposed itself over the Fell Dragon. It is in that moment that Arthur Pendragon recalled a battle against a different dragon, the size of a citadel. It's in that moment that Arthur Pendragon remembered fighting Vortigern, the tyrant-king who took on the form of a dragon.

Fighting Grima was exactly like fighting Vortigern. The beating of his wings created gusts of wind that threatened to bowl Arthur over. Grima's paws came down with immense force, like the hammer of a god. His fiery breath was all-consuming. His noxious, virulent presence drowned out all other scents as if one's being was being snuffed out in a sea of darkness.

Against such a foe-

"You should go," Lucina murmured beside him. "Go. I'll hold him back, you've done enough-"

Against such a foe, there wasn't the slightest hope of victory. Arthur spared a glance toward Lucina. The young woman's eyes were as chips of ice, her demeanor serious, a resigned look upon her face as she steeled herself to fight to the bitter end against her most hated foe.

In that moment, she reminded him of Gawain.

"… Why are you smiling?" Lucina asked.

"It's just-" Arthur turned back towards Grima, he watched as the dragon threw back his head and _roared_ , and all of this was just so familiar to the King. "It's nothing, you just reminded me of someone I knew. However, I'm afraid I'm going to have to require your assistance just a little longer."

"… You have a plan?" Lucina asked.

Arthur nodded. "I believe I can immobilize him."

Excalibur was locked by two sets of seals. Invisible Air had been dispelled, but the other thirteen seals were still on. If Arthur could release enough of the thirteen restraints that bound his sword, if he could fire Excalibur right down Grima's gullet…

He hoped something like that would do more than simply _immobilize_ Grima.

"I'll need a few seconds to prepare that though. Would that buy you enough time to finish him off?" He asked.

"It would, yes," Lucina replied slowly. "Very well. Understood!" Lucina shouted as she darted forth to swing at Grima's outstretched paw.

* * *

As it turned out, Lucina's sword bounced off Grima's paw uselessly.

" **How amusing."** The dragon boomed as he stared down at Lucina's figure. The terrible talons came down again. Lucina's eyes darted to the side as she prepared to jump-

She gasped, managing to pull herself back from the yawning abyss to her side just in the nick of time. A little bead of sweat dripped down the inside of her tunic as she gaped at the long, _long_ fall she would have tumbled down if she'd dodged in that direction.

" **Die already!"** Grima snarled as he brought his scything talons down again. The ground shook underneath Lucina's feet, tiles crumbled and cracked. She shrieked as the ground caved away beneath her, plunging her down, down-

 _I'm sorry, mother. Father, please forgive me-_

"Lucina!" Strong arms caught ahold of her tunic, yanking her onto a leathery back. Lucina cracked her eyes open, and the sight she beheld was almost enough to make her _cry_.

"Gerome!" She gasped.

The masked boy peered down at Lucina worriedly. He exhaled, a quick breath of relief escaping his mouth. "Are you hurt?"

"No, but- We're on Minerva?"

"It's a good thing we got here on time!" Cynthia waved gaily at Lucina.

"We've always watched over you!" Noire chimed in.

"Noire! Cynthia!" Tears began to well up in Lucina's eyes. She scrubbed them away, wiping them off on her sleeve. "Oh. Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

"Don't thank us yet- Guargh!" Gerome screamed as he yanked on his Wyvern mount's reins, sending her into a dive. Moments later, a gargantuan fireball _exploded_ overhead. Cynthia and Noire shrieked, and even Lucina couldn't help but let out a little _yip_.

"That was close!" Cynthia gasped.

That's when the dragon _roared_ again. Lucina turned her head back to look at Grima. A sudden light suddenly flashed, she threw up her hands to cover her eyes-

"Grima's stopped shooting fireballs at us," Gerome noted, as he brought Minerva back around to circle the ruins of Ylisstol. His sharp eyes scanned the castle. Lucina heard him suck in a sudden breath. "Hey, Lucina, were you with someone?"

* * *

" **What is that light?"** Grima hissed. Arthur Pendragon said nothing in response. His hands, his hands held aloft a miracle. A divine construct that would assuredly save the world, a glorious golden sword that emanated radiance and _warmth_.

"Thirteen seals, decision start!"

" _Approved. Bedivere. Gaheris. Kay. Mordred. Galahad."_

Excalibur ratcheted in Arthur Pendragon's hands, a series of clanking sounds emerging as he lifted the restraints one by one.

"This is a battle to save the world!"

" _Arthur."_

And with that, the sixth restraint was released.

 _Not enough time to release seven seals. Six will have to suffice._

Even so, the light of that blade blazed like the sun, blindingly hot against Arthur's cheek. He thrust his left foot forward, his right foot back as he grasped his sword with both arms and brought it up for an under-handed _swing_.

The light of that sword was visible for miles, as a beacon that lit up the darkened sky. Arthur scanned the horizon, spotting a dark shape, moving quickly against the clouds. He spotted Lucina sitting upon the Wyvern's back, joined by three other individuals. The quartet were circling overhead. Grima paid no mind to them.

 _She's safe. Well then._

A dark shadow loomed over him and he bit back a bitter curse.

" **As if I'd let you. No more games. Now you die."** Grima hissed, as he prepared to bring the bulk of his body down to crush Arthur where he stood.

* * *

"… Turn around." Lucina said softly, her eyes captured by the sight of that glorious golden light. It was as if the sun had risen again, as if rays of sunshine had pierced through the clouds that darkened the sky. The light radiating from Arthur's sword was a beautiful, incandescent light that warmed the heart. No, in the first place-

-In the first place, could something as beautiful and wondrous as that sword even be called a sword?

"What?" Gerome murmured. He was just as transfixed by the sight as the rest of their group. Lucina didn't blame him, for a moment she'd lost herself as well. But then she saw Grima's arm beginning to rear back, and she knew that there was no time to simply gawk.

"That man needs an opening. Gerome." Lucina said evenly. "Whatever he's planning on doing, he needs an opening. I'll give him that opening."

"There's nothing we can do though!" Cynthia protested.

"My bow is useless! Shooting Grima would be like shooting a stone wall!" Noire cried.

"Drop me above Grima's head, Gerome," Lucina ordered. "There's something I want to try."

"Oh? Ah, I see. Understood!"

* * *

" **GARGH!"** Arthur watched as a blue blur dropped from the sky, as Grima roared in sudden _agony_. Lucina had fallen out of the sky, Falchion in hand. She'd lashed out with her blade, taking a swipe at Grima's face-

" **YOU BITCH!"** Grima thundered as he tossed and twisted his head. **"My eye! My eye! Agh! Agh!"**

Even from this distance, Arthur could hear Lucina grunting as she held onto her sword with both arms, where it was lodged directly in Grima's eye-socket, as she struggled to maintain her grip on her anchorage point.

This was bad. Now she was in the line of fire. He couldn't possibly fire off Excalibur now, else he'd end up vaporizing the closest thing he had to an ally in this dark, barren place.

Still. Lucina's stunt put a slight grin on his face. It might have been audacious, foolhardy, reckless, it might have put her in his line of fire, but it had _worked_. She'd given him the opening he needed.

"Get clear!" He yelled. "Get clear!

Arthur watched Lucina brace her feet against Grima's cheek, watched her tug with all her might. The King of Knights watched the girl fall, sword in hand, the blade that was stained with the ruins of Grima's eye. He saw the rider of the Wyvern reach out to catch her, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the masked boy scooped her back onto his mount, as the Wyvern darted away at great speed.

" **I'll kill you!"** Grima roared. **"Kill your face! Kill! Kill you all! My eye! My-"**

" _No more words from you. Arthur, do it."_

"EX-"

Arthur's hands tightened on his sword. The blinding light that surrounded him intensified. Excalibur blazed even brighter, bathing Arthur's livery in shades of gold, luminous light washing over the ruined castle-top.

Arthur Pendragon twisted his torso around and _swung_. Grima turned to face him then. The Fell Dragon's reflexes had dulled. One of his eyes had been taken out, and he'd been injured numerous times. He met his incoming doom far, far too late for him to do anything about it.

"-CALIBUR!"

An explosive boom rent the air. The glass windows that remained in the castle blew out from the force of Excalibur's slash. A beam of light leaped forth from the path of the blade, the same hue as the golden radiance that had lit the sword. It was a beautiful arc of light that cleaved right through the air, causing the air to sizzle from the force of its passage.

For one, beautiful moment, Excalibur lit up the sky, and it was if day had returned to Ylisstol.

The ray of golden light slammed directly into Grima's body. The Fell Dragon's howls filled the air, eclipsed by Excalibur's _roar_. The fell dragon thought he had known pain before, when Lucina took out his eye, when he'd first been sealed away a thousand years ago.

Excalibur's attack consumed him, bathing him in a pillar of light and radiance and he knew true _pain_. The dragon screamed, and screamed, and screamed. His roars caused the earth trembling, his pained thrashing demolished whole buildings. The bulk of his body was pushed _back_ , and he carved a swathe through the streets of Ylisstol, bowled over by Excalibur's beam.

Then finally it ended. Grima's body came to a stop right on the outskirts of Ylisstol, coming to rest in a heap of burnt rubble and mangled garbage. The Fell Dragon's mangled head fell to the ground with a final, resounding _thud_.

Arthur lowered his sword with a relieved sigh, as he watched the twitching corpse of his foe. He let his arms fall, letting the blade of his sword, still glowing, cast a pale golden light on the bricks around him. He heard the beating of wings behind him, he heard something heavy come to a rest on the castle-top. He heard four figures dismount, he turned to meet them.

A pale-haired masked boy, two girls, one with a bow, and Lucina. They all gaped at Arthur for one very, very long moment.

"…" The masked boy's mouth opened and closed, like he was a fish out of water. He pointed toward Arthur. Pointed at Grima's twitching, steaming bulk, still sprawled in the ruined outskirts of the city. He pointed back toward Arthur-

"So uh," The girl with the bow began. "… Uh."

"Hey mister, are you some kind of- Of superman or something? What the crap was that?"

"Is he dead?" Lucina asked, getting directly to the point, even as she strode over to stand by Arthur's side. Arthur shrugged.

"He should be-" The King of Knights grimaced as Grima staggered to his feet, a loud bellow preceding his reawakening. The dragon whirled on its haunches, turning to glare at the castle atop that hill. More specifically, the people standing on top of the castle.

He looked horrible. The left side of his body was scraped raw. The right side of his body was mangled, blackened. White flashes of ivory were visible where Excalibur had burned him right down to the bone. His right wing was completely melted away, a mere caricature protruding awkwardly from his side, like a dead tree sticking out of an equally dead swamp. Two burning red eyes were all that he had left to glare weakly at Ylisstol Castle as he limped away, dripping ichor all the while.

A wink of light _flashed_ and with that, the maimed Fell Dragon vanished, to lick his wounds and plot another day.

"… Tch, he got away." Arthur commented. What a travesty. If he'd had time to undo another seal…!

"He ran away!?" Lucina blurted.

"Grima… Ran away." The masked boy said slowly, as if he were trying to process the situation.

Silence fell on that castle-top. Arthur Pendragon 'sheathed' his sword. Excalibur clanked as the thirteen seals remanifested over it. A thin sheen rippled across its surface as Invisible Air manifested, coating the blade in a sheath of wind. The glow from the blade died away, leaving Ylisstol Castle dark and cold.

Lucina took all of this in. Cerulean eyes flickered down to the opaque sheen Arthur clenched within his fist, back up to his face. She swallowed, almost imperceptibly.

"I believe," Lucina began. "That we have some questions to ask of you."

"I concur." Arthur smiled sheepishly. "And I believe I have some questions to ask of you as well."

* * *

 **A/N: So yeah, that happened.**


End file.
